Mar
6
2012
The Lamppost
Posted in Daily Living 12 Comments
Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers? The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10: 36, 37)
The house where I grew up had a road in the front and a road in the back. Our back porch, with its wrought iron furniture and glass top table, was the place to be. Not having air conditioning, it was the coolest part of the house.
I sat there many afternoons with my mother talking about everything, and nothing, yet still feeling as if all the things I had to say were terribly important to her. She was a wonderful listener. She had the gift of making even the most mundane thing an event. When I met my soon to be…many years later…husband…in high school, I would come home and tell her every detail: how I dropped my book (on purpose, I admit !!!) and he picked it up, how I did not understand math very well but he was so smart and understood it all, how I wish we could go to a dance together…
We did…many…but she never knew. My mother died when I was fifteen years old.
I was adopted and an only child. At a time when people had large families, I only had three people in mine. When families looked like each other, I looked vastly different. My tall 5’10” height seemed strange beside my mother who stood 5’3” and not much better beside my father who stood only 5’7″.
Stand tall, she would say, always be proud of your height. There is nothing nicer than a tall girl, who enters a room with confidence. Whether that was true or not really didn’t matter. It was drilled into me for so long, I believed it. Another gift.
As we sat on the porch many afternoons, we would see people go by. Many days, he would walk by…a small, elderly man, neatly dressed, walking his little dog. His steps were quick and sure. He always wore a hat which he would tip in my mother’s direction. He waved as he went by. We knew nothing about him, but we could set our clock by him. His punctuality was comforting.
I remember a day, when we saw his silhouette coming down the road against a dark, gray sky. He seemed a bit slower, as he passed, since the wind kicked up a bit. It started to rain. My mother jumped up and grabbed her car keys and told me to come with her. We were going to pick the man up and drive him and his little dog home.
It felt like an intrusion. It was the right thing to do, but up to this point, our two worlds never met. They were on either side of a screen.
We drove around to the back street, behind our house. My mother pulled over and instructed the man to get into the car. He did not hesitate. He picked his little dog up in one motion and placed it on his lap as he got into the front seat. I don’t remember them talking much, except when he gave her directions to his home.
That was it. He was home…safe. He tipped his hat, in this new place…his place…and walked into his house with his little dog in his arms.
Not too long after that, my mother died…a heart attack…in our kitchen. Lines were blurred and familiar things seemed unfamiliar. There was a new normal to get used to, and jobs to do…that used to be hers…and school to go to…that was always mine.
At the funeral home, there were many people, saying all the right things, but nothing I needed to hear. I was hot and tired and confused in this sea of faces. I looked up. There he was…the small, elderly man, neatly dressed…coming towards me.
He took my hand. It was rough. Hard work made its callouses. I didn’t know what to say. He bridged the silence.
She was my friend, you know.
He walked away…the hat he always tipped held tightly in his hand.
I needed air. I went towards the door without stopping. I had to see where he went.
I opened the door and stepped outside. It was as if he disappeared.
Then I saw him. He was by the lamppost out front. Tied to the lamppost was his little dog, on a leash, waiting patiently for him. He stooped down and rubbed the dog’s head, stood up slowly and walked away. I will never forget the shadow of that pair in the lamplight. I often wondered how the man got home. He was far from where we drove him that day.
My mother’s small act of kindness bridged two worlds. She saw a need, a tiny one…and she met that need with loving kindness. A stranger became a friend.
Go and do likewise.
I am beginning to understand…
I like this one a lot mama! I can see why God put it on your heart to start a blog. I’m glad you’re my mama, I love you!
This means so much, Brian, coming from your precious heart !!!
I love you, too.
I am so proud of the Man of God you are !!!
MOM
Sherie’s sister….she forwarded the blog site to me. You’ve got a gift for writing!
Thank you for your encouragement, Jane.
Gina
Very well written and gripping. She must have been tuned in to the Spirit to make such a sponaneous successful decision. The difference between the Priest and Levi and the Good Samaritan; the Priest and Levi knew the letter of the law that killeth whereas the Samartian had the spirit of the law in his heart.
Thank you, David.
Oh, to have the spirit of the law in our hearts and live it out each day.
How comforting to know you are praying “across the pond”.
Gina,
What a blessed gift you have been given, and what a story to tell. I am touched by your testimony and have several young ladies who lost their mom last year and they are in a lot of pain. I can’t wait for them to read the story God wrote into your life.
Thanks
Blessings,
Carol
Thank you, Carol.
I pray that God will use these simple words to touch another life.
I pray for even just one person to know Him better as He speaks into our lives…and as we listen.
Dear Gina,
How vivid and beautiful are your words. I felt my eyes filling with tears as I was reading. Thank you for sharing your gift with us. I look forward to many more!
Darlene
You have prayed and supported this quietly…so comforting to know your prayers were always there. Thank you, Darlene.
Gina! You are out of the gate with a bang! The story you wrote is as gentle and lovely as you are and the message is clearly conveyed. I thank God that you have obeyed and started to blog, it will surely be a gift to many!
Cinda
Thank you, Cinda.
This can only continue with prayer.
I know I can count on you for that, dear friend !!!